


Hakuna Matata

by Reign_of_Glory



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: (But like platonic??), (Ish) - Freeform, Anxiety, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Original Male Characters (I apologise for them in advance), Sleepy Cuddles, Will mention more in beginning notes, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Glory/pseuds/Reign_of_Glory
Summary: It’s the 13th of February. Three in the afternoon.There are so many reasons she shouldn’t do this, but she promised she would. She gave her word.~*~AKA Kit agrees to something she doesn't want to do, and she manages to stand up for herself with the help of her queens - and maybe she gets a bit of reassurance along the way.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	Hakuna Matata

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This was meant to be posted the other day (on, well, 13 February), but I never got around to it... so here we are. 
> 
> I was not super sure how to tag this, so giving a quick warning here:  
> This fic may be uncomfortable for some readers. Nothing graphic happens, but some behaviour is... not the greatest, I suppose, and could make you uncomfortable. Please click out if you begin to feel uncomfortable.  
> To be more specific, I worry some of the vibes may not be good. Please take care of yourself, everyone!  
> There's also swearing, but it's incredibly minor and there are three instances iirc.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

“Give me one good reason I should wear a dress.” Katherine glares at the array of clothing before her. She crosses her arms over her chest, and with a  _ hmph _ , she sits on the edge of her bed.

_ “Minette, _ dear, you’re going on a date. Don’t you want to dress up?” Anne sits next to her, completely uninvited. 

Katherine scoots away. “No.”

“I’m sure Callum will be wearing something nice.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to.”

Anne hums in response. “No, you don’t  _ have _ to, but you do look nice in dresses - not that you don’t look great in anything else.” She stumbles over her words.

_ I don’t  _ want _ to look nice, _ Katherine thinks, staring at her lap. Her ripped jeans show exactly what she wants to be: carefree.  _ I don’t want to look  _ pretty _. I want to wear mud-stained trousers and a tattered hoodie. _

Still, after carefully ‘pondering’, she sighs. “Fine, fine, I’ll wear…  _ that _ one.” Her hand lifts, and before she even registers what she’s doing, she points at one in the back of her wardrobe, hardly visible to the eye. Bits of navy blue poke out from behind a different dress, and she stands, pulling it out.

The dress is not in any way overly fancy. The neckline and sleeves are modest, and it fits her well - or at least, it would if she were wearing it. “There,” Katherine mumbles, “I’ve chosen one.”

“It’ll look lovely, but you might want to get a cardigan so you don’t get chilly.” Anne stands and smiles at her. “Do you want me to do your hair?”

“No,  _ Mum. _ ” Katherine rolls her eyes fondly. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Anne exits the room, but before she shuts the door, she chuckles. “Remember to be home by nine.”

~*~

Callum is an okay boy. He gets on people’s nerves, sure, but that’s only because he’s condescending and a know-it-all, like all the boys Katherine has met. 

He’s not even that attractive, but most of the “popular” girls discuss his appearance. Katherine has found herself wanting to gag multiple times when overhearing these conversations.

In fact, she would rather date her best friend (who has a rather lovely personality, if she must say) than Callum Sweeney.

Nevertheless, he knocked on the door one day, and as Katherine pulls on her dress, she remembers.

_ “I’ll get it!” Jane shouted. The sound of her footsteps thundered from the kitchen as she raced to the door. “It might be the postman!” _

_ “Sure it is,” Anne called, flipping through the channels idly, a magazine on her lap. _

_ “Oh, hush!” Jane opened the door, ready to pick up her package, and she faltered. Katherine watched as she hurriedly adjusted her shirt. “Er- It’s a  _ man.”

_ “A man?” Anne echoed. “Do tell.” _

_ The boy at the door cleared his throat, tightening his tie. “Hello, Ms Howard - that’s you, no?” _

_ “...sure.”  _

_ “Sure, Jane,” Anne muttered. _

_ “Well,” said the boy, “I’m here to ask you if I can take Katherine on a date.” _

_ Katherine gulped, and both of her cousins turned to stare at her. “Hi?”  _

_ “Do you know who this is?” Anne raised an eyebrow. _

_ Katherine nodded. _

_ “Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself.” The boy smiled. Warmth seemed to radiate from him. “I’m Callum Sweeney. Some people call me Cal. I’m captain of the football team-” _

_ Anne bit back a snort. _

_ “-and in a student-run debate club.” Katherine can practically feel the smugness radiating off of him. “Anyway, I wanted to ask if I could take Kate to the cinema and to dinner after. Any day other than Tuesday and Friday is fine.” _

_ Katherine opened her mouth, about to speak, when Anne finally spoke to Callum. “And I assume your parents will drive?” _

_ Callum nodded. _

_ “Kit, are you okay with this?” _

_ Was she? Katherine didn’t think so. She didn’t really like Callum at all. Still, she felt her lips curving into a grin, a grin she’d once practised so carefully, and she giggled (why? why!?). “I am.” _

_ “Okay, then I guess it’s fine…” Anne stood up, dropping the magazine and glaring at him. “But have her home no later than nine.” _

_ “Sure thing.” _

~*~

It’s the 13th of February. Three in the afternoon. 

There are  _ so _ many reasons she shouldn’t do this, but she promised she would. She gave her word.

Katherine pulls on her cardigan, ignoring the chill that seems to hang in the air. Bending down, she pulls on shoes - not heels. The anxious feeling in the stomach tells her not to wear heels. She can barely walk in them anyway - she’s more like Cathy in that manner.

She pulls her hair back with a clip and opens her door. Inhaling, she allows air to fill her lungs as if it will make her feel better. (She knows it won’t).

As she shuffles out of her room, she meets Catalina’s worried gaze as the Spaniard leans on the kitchen counter. “Have you got your purse with you? Your phone? Money?”

Katherine can’t help but chuckle - though not lightheartedly. “I do. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Okay.” Catalina frowns. “Call us if you need anything, okay? I’ll make sure everyone has their volume up.”

Katherine nods. She opens her mouth, ready to ask if Catalina has any sweets she can smuggle in (really, the cinema is  _ so _ expensive, and she would much prefer to not be paying £7 for popcorn and a drink when she can bring a bottle of water from home), but a knock sounds on the door.

Catalina shoots her a small smile, and Katherine returns it before heading to the door.

Thankfully, Jane opens it before she can get there. “Cal!”

Callum grins. “Hello, hello… Kitty! There you are!”

Katherine tries not to grimace.

“Hi, er, thanks for-”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Callum interrupts. “Anything for you.”

_ Ew. _

~*~

The drive isn’t even that awful. Katherine scrolls through social media on her phone, and Callum talks to the man who is driving the car - presumably his dad even though the two look nothing alike. 

They scramble out of the car the moment it comes to a stop, and the two begin to make their way to the cinema’s doors. Callum hands the usher their tickets. He offers a small, nervous smile to Katherine, something so unlike his usual greater-than-thou demeanour that it begins to ease the anxiety in her stomach, and he hands her the stub of her ticket. “Want to get something from the concessions booth?”

“Sure,” Katherine says, and she follows him.

~*~

Even the film is fine. Callum chose a cheesy romantic comedy, which is fine with Katherine, and she even finds herself interested in the film. Not the protagonist, though - these protagonists, as she has learned, are never like normal people.

Then a cold hand touches hers.

Now, she’s used to cold hands. She has the warmest hands out of all her family, mostly because she’s always wrapped in layers or a cocoon of blankets, so every time someone touches her it’s  _ icy. _

But this is not a familiar hand, nor is it a familiar touch. As if her body is on autopilot, Katherine jerks her hand away, shooting Callum an icy glare. 

_ “What?” _ the boy mouths, his hand twitching angrily against his armrest.

_ Shit, shit, shit. _ She shouldn’t have done that. She should have let it be. It was fine, after all, nothing has happened… but she’s always told herself that. 

With a sigh, Katherine shakes her head minutely. _“Sorry,”_ she mouths back ( _I’m not)._ _“Thought you were someone else.”_

Callum continues to stare at her, making it feel as if spiders are crawling up her spine, and Katherine bows her head sheepishly.  _ “Sorry,” _ she mouths again, motioning to take his hand.

He lets her.

It feels wrong.

~*~

The film ends, and quite fortunately, Callum’s hand has not drifted any further. Katherine quickly gets up from her seat, smiling (in a way which she hopes does not appear nervous), and she picks up the empty bin of popcorn and begins to head out.

She’s nearly outside the cinema when Callum runs into her again (of course. He’s her date. What did she expect?) and grabs her shoulder. “Hey, hey, where are you going?”

“Er- out?”

“Without me?” There is an edge to his tone, and Katherine stops struggling.

“Erm… no, of course not.”

“Sure. Come on, then.” He runs his hand down her arm, making her shiver as a draft hits her suddenly-exposed neck, and he pulls her forward. “My brother’s waiting.”

_ Brother? _

Is there  _ no _ supervision?

Usually, Katherine supposes she would be glad for no parental supervision, but she does not trust this, not at all.

Her phone is a deadweight in her purse, but she leaves the nagging sensation to call someone in the back of her head.

She’s fine.

~*~

The car smells vaguely of smoke when she fastens her seatbelt. Callum’s brother ( _ Edward _ , her memory supplies,  _ his name is Edward) _ glances back at her and smirks. “So this is your catch?”

A surge of indignation rises up within Katherine - she is  _ not _ a catch. She is  _ not _ some fish in the ocean, waiting to be caught, to be  _ baited _ , to be  _ eaten. _

Callum doesn’t correct Edward. Instead, he chuckles. “Yeah, I guess. She’s a bit… tall, for a girl. But she has nice eyes. And a nice figure.”

Even though the car is moving at a relatively fast speed, Katherine wants to get out.  _ Ew. _ Callum doesn’t even know her, does he? Maybe that’s why he didn’t choose the new horror film that’s also showing in the cinema (or maybe he just doesn’t like horror).

She doesn’t like them talking about her like this, though, and her gaze once again dips to the purse in her lap.

“Got any money in that?” Callum asks, gesturing.

“Er, maybe? Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

  
  
“Why?”

Callum laughs, a rough laugh that sounds awful. “Why does it matter?”

“Mr Sweeney, I would like to know where my money is going.” Katherine straightens her posture in an attempt to seem taller than she is.

Callum only shakes his head. 

Edward snorts. “Such formality.”

“I know.” Callum says nothing to Katherine.

~*~

It’s a nice restaurant they stop at. Katherine knows what it’s called only because the “older three”, as they are dubbed in the household, went there once. They said it was  _ not _ worth the money they spent and that Jane’s pasta was burnt. So naturally, Katherine does not have the highest of hopes for this place. 

Callum hurries her out of the car, and right as she stumbles out, clutching her purse and slamming the door behind her, Edward speeds away. 

Callum holds the door open for her, a gesture that  _ should _ be nice but really isn’t. Katherine shoulders her way past him, feeling his cold glare burning into her shoulders as she hurries by.

She doesn’t like this, not one bit.

~*~

Despite the conflict inside her, Katherine thinks every bit of her can be thankful this is not a restaurant like that one Mexican place she went to - she remembers how awfully she butchered the pronunciation of  _ quesadilla _ , and it still haunts her.

“What time is it?” Callum’s cool, calculated words snap her out of her memory. 

“Er-” Katherine glances at her watch. “Half six.”

“Good, we have time.” He slips a forkful of pasta into his mouth, his eyes not leaving hers. It’s creepy - even when she tries to look away, Callum doesn’t let her.

Closing her eyes so she doesn’t have to stare into those terrifying eyes, she brings a spoonful of soup to her lips, internally noting that homemade soup is  _ much _ better - although she knows she must be grateful. Any soup is good soup.

Callum’s gaze burns into her hand, and she finally meets his eyes once again. “What do you  _ want?” _ she snaps.

“God, no need to be so bitchy.”  _ (Just a bitch pretending to be a queen).  _ “I was just admiring you.”  _ (A girl who wants to be admired, a whore who wants power). _ “You have… lovely hands.”  _ (‘Put your hands on me,’ he said, and she obeyed). _

_ Run, _ she thinks, but she sits there, her eyes still narrowed from when she hissed at him. “Sure I do.” She doesn’t even glance down at her hands, which she knows are in worse shape than they used to be ( _ flawless hands. the hands of a musician, of a Lady, of a wife, of a queen) _ \- they are scarred from burns in the kitchen, her nails bitten to the quick because of late-night terrors.

And this boy calls them lovely.

And she  _ hates _ it.

She sets her spoon down with a  _ clink _ , sliding her bowl away from her. “I’m full.”

“Are you ready to go?”

Katherine glances at her watch.  _ 19:02.  _ They’ve got roughly two hours.  _ Is _ she ready to go?  _ Where _ would they be going?

“Er- I’m going to use the toilet first.” She attempts to place her words carefully, the way she hears Anne or Cathy or Catalina do when they speak to people they don’t want to speak to (sometimes each other). 

The sentence was probably rushed anyway.

Something glints in Callum’s light eyes as Katherine steps out of her chair, and he smiles at her. “Of course. I’ll wait here. I’ll pay for the food.”

( _ Then where is  _ my _ money going!?) _

  
  


~*~

She doesn’t  _ use _ the toilet. She instead leans on one of the walls, glaring at her reflection. Angry eyes stare back at her.

“I hate you,” she grumbles. Whether she’s talking to herself or to Callum, she’s not sure, but she hates whoever got her into this situation - and it seems to be herself. Biting back tears, she hisses, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

A girl who just walked in stares at her with wide, worried eyes and hands her a handkerchief.

“Er, thanks.”

The girl nods and scurries to wash her hands.

~*~

“You took forever.” Callum’s words are as cold as his smile when she meets him at the table. His hands are in his pockets, and suddenly, Katherine feels insignificant. Perhaps it’s the way he stares at her, as if she’s a country he wishes to conquer, as if she’s an ant he’s willing to squish.

She does not want to be squished.

“Er… girl things.” A lie. 

He seems to see right through it. “Well, come on. Edward’s been waiting for five minutes.”

Five minutes really isn’t that long, but Katherine obliges, because  _ what else is she meant to do? _

( _ What will happen to her if she  _ doesn’t _ do what he wants, she wonders, and so she lets him tell her what to do. Every. Single. Time). _

~*~

Callum sits next to her in the car ride rather than in the front like he had last time. This is considerably worse than staring at the back of Edward’s head, for many reasons - one of them being that Callum’s icy cold hand is on her thigh.

She does not want to move it, and not because she enjoys the sensation. No, she  _ hates _ it. She wants to smack him. She really  _ would _ rather be on a date with Megan. 

But she  _ cannot _ move her hand to smack his. She  _ cannot _ hiss at him to not touch her. It would be  _ weird. _

Besides, she is at his mercy. She is in a car. If she’s thrown out of it… 

Ouch.

Katherine has died once ( _ 479 years ago,  _ she remembers _ , this morning) _ and she does  _ not _ want to die again.

~*~

“Wait, but my house is the other way…” Katherine’s voice comes out smaller than it should. She shivers.

“I know.” Edward turns up the radio.

“Where are we going?” Katherine mumbles.

“My place,” Callum answers.

There is a certain edge to his tone, and it reminds her of the way he has sized her up during the past four and a half hours.

_ (‘Follow me,’ he said, ‘and I will show you something you will never forget.’ _

_ She never forgot it. _

_ But oh, did she regret). _

~*~

She wants to leave the house as soon as they arrive, but instead, she commits the address to memory and plans to take out her phone later, whenever she can. The time is  _ 19:50. _ They’re in Sevenoaks. 

She repeats the information in her head as she anxiously follows Edward inside - she may not like him or trust him, but he at the very least hasn’t been staring at her all night.

Unfortunately, he glances back at her and smirks wrily. “Cal, what’s your little girl doing following me? Take her upstairs or something.”

“Ah, right.” Callum still sounds sure of himself, but he seems less comfortable at home. Perhaps that is a good thing. Katherine is not sure. “Want to go to my room?” He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

_ Ew, no. Absolutely not. _

“Sure,” is what she says, though, and she wishes she took a kitchen knife from home or even nicked the steak knife from the silverware at the restaurant.

~*~

“I need a drink,” Katherine says before they reach the top of the stairs. 

“You’re kidding.”

“No, actually.” Katherine chuckles, but it’s even clear to  _ her _ that she doesn’t sound confident. “I really do need something to drink.”

“Go downstairs and bother Edward. I’ll be waiting.”

He storms down the hall and slams a door behind him. Katherine considers this a small victory and sprints down the stairs, opening the first door she sees and locking herself inside the room. 

It’s a cupboard of sorts. That’s fine.

She pulls her phone out of her purse and checks her notifications. Nothing. She can’t call; that will make too much noise. So she opens the messaging app and messages  _ everyone _ , including the group chat. 

_ Hi. help ASAP. just gotta get away. _

Send.

She also types in the address.

_ Hurry, I can’t stay in this cupboard forever. _

Now, she just has to wait.

~*~

_ 20:21. _

She’s gotten texts from everyone; even Meg and Tomas have asked if she’s okay. Katherine has also responded, letting her friends know she’ll be okay (she hopes) and letting her family know that  _ yes, _ she is still in the cupboard.

Jane asked how she fit in there in the group chat. Cathy had told her there was no time to worry about such trivial things.

~*~

_ 20:32. _

Katherine smiles as her phone lights up, only to have her hopes trampled when she hears her name being called from the direction she came from. She bites back a swear and reads the message - they’re almost here.

_ I’m about to be in trouble if you don’t hurry, _ she texts back before backing behind some tubs of yarn.

~*~

_ 20:35. _

“Katherine, I know you’re down here somewhere! If you ran away-” The sound of feet thundering down the stairs only makes the teenager pull more bins in front of her. “-there will be HELL to pay.”

She doesn’t want to pay for anything. The coins she has in her purse seem like an extra weight - the purse actually seems like something that might detain her from leaving. Still, she sort of needs it.

“Baby girl, we were going to have so much fun!”

Katherine doesn’t know if that’s true. 

Does she even want to?

~*~

_ 20:37. _

The doorbell rings. 

Katherine could shout with relief, but then she wonders if it’s just Callum’s parents. 

However, she immediately recognises Catalina’s worried voice, and she feels her tense muscles relax. She can’t see much in the darkness of the cupboard, but it’s as if she’s been coated in a happy light, as if she can actually see something.

“Why are you here?” Callum’s voice echoes throughout the ground floor.

“Because she was supposed to be home thirty minutes before nine, no?” Anne’s lying wouldn’t have been obvious had Callum been an idiot. Alas, he is not an idiot, and Katherine fights back the urge to facepalm.

“I thought we agreed on nine?”

“It’s eight… Eight thirty-eight. I told her to text when she was on her way, and as we were out, I thought, well, why not…”

“We could have been doing things!” Callum’s irritation makes Katherine want to back away, but instead, she moves a few tubs out of her way and begins to make her way towards the door of the cupboard. 

“Like what?”

“Teenager things. You wouldn’t understand.”

After a moment of silence in which Katherine holds back laughter, imagining the stare-off, Anna speaks. “Anyway… Now that we’re  _ here _ , we should probably pick her up.”

“And at this point I would let you,” Callum says bitterly, “but I can’t fucking  _ find _ her.”

He whistles as if she’s a dog.

Just to humour him, Katherine opens the door and stumbles out of the cupboard. “There’s no water in there, Callum. Where do you put your water!?”

“...you thought water would be in the cupboard.”

“Well, yeah.” Katherine shrugs, taking a step closer to where Anna, Anne, and Catalina are gawking at her. “We put ours in a cupboard.” It’s a lie, but she is  _ very _ good at lying.

Callum shakes his head, his hand smacking his forehead. “...all right.” It takes a  _ lot _ of Katherine’s willpower to not laugh at the impression she must be giving off - and it’s  _ good, _ because she  _ wants _ him to dislike her. (Again, she’d much rather ask out Megan than him, and she’s not even  _ attracted _ to Megan, not in that way.)

“Kat, come on,” Catalina murmurs, gesturing for her to come. 

The teenager shuffles towards her, keeping an eye out for anything.

Obviously reluctantly, Callum steps aside. “Well. Do feel free to come back.”

“Er - sure?” Katherine raises an eyebrow only to be pulled out of the doorway by a chilly hand - not Catalina’s and probably Anne’s.

“Come on, you have chores to do.” Her cousin’s voice is gentle but firm.  _ “Au revoir, _ thank you for having her, er, whatever else you’re supposed to say…”

And the door slams shut behind them.

_ Peace. _

~*~

She leans against Catalina, burying her face in the Spaniard’s shoulder, and she listens to the hum of the engines as a lilting tune floats through the car. A steady vibration runs through her as they go over a small bump in the road, and she leans closer to Catalina.

“So what happened?” Anne doesn’t look away from the road.

“Er… memories.” Katherine attempts a shrug. “I don’t know. I’m also not really attracted to him, like, at all. He’s annoying. Gross. Made me feel insignificant, like I was just… like I was just a puppet, or perhaps a mannequin for him to dress up.”

“Oh, it’s the thirteenth, right?”

Katherine loves her cousin, she really does - but sometimes, the woman is absolutely clueless.

“Yes, Bo. It’s the thirteenth.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you want to go in the first place?”

Katherine shakes her head, aware only Catalina can see her.

“I- she said no. Well, didn’t  _ say _ it, but…”

“Oh,  _ chérie…” _

Katherine sits up, nearly hitting her head on Catalina’s chin, and she stares ahead into the night. “Don’t pity me.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the drive is silent save for Elvis on the radio and the gentle hum of the engine. 

~*~

They enter the house together, with Kit leaning on Catalina as Anna holds the door. Anne ran away immediately, for reasons Katherine doesn’t even want to imagine - she hopes she didn’t do anything wrong.

“Kitty, are you… are you okay? What happened?” Jane leaps off the couch the second Catalina’s foot hits the floor.

“You might want to leave her be for a few,” Anna warns.

“No,” Katherine argues, “I’m fine.”

Catalina gives her a wry glance, one that seems to say,  _ Are you sure? _

Katherine lifts her chin in an attempt to convey,  _ yes _ , and she detaches herself from the weird hug. “Er, just.. Didn’t feel good. Things.” She waves her hand in a  _ there’s more but I don’t want to talk about it _ gesture, or at least what she  _ hopes _ is a  _ there’s more but I don’t want to talk about it _ gesture.

With an awkward chuckle, she begins to back towards the kitchen (and through that, her room). “Well, I guess I should go to sleep… Haha…”

She dashes away.

~*~

When she opens the door to her room, Cathy and Anne are sitting on the floor on top of a pile of blankets.

“What... are you two… doing?” Katherine tentatively steps forward.

The two share a glance, and when Cathy’s eyes narrow, Anne rolls her own and opens her mouth. “Well, you don’t have to agree to this, but sometimes it’s nice to just  _ lay _ with someone, you know? And, I mean, blanket forts are nice. We’re nearly done with this. Just… thought it would be a nice touch. You know, if you would like to have someone to hug you or something, which I totally understand  _ not _ wanting.”

What is that feeling- She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know how to name it, but she wonders if it’s what she thought she always wanted, what she thought she was looking for: love.

Not romantic, though, because that… maybe she’s not looking for that. Maybe she just wants someone to be here for her.

“...thank you.” She sits between them, drawing her knees to her chest, and she smiles.

~*~

It’s the 13th of February. Still, Katherine doubts nightmares will plague her, at least not tonight.

She leans on Anna, whose eyelids droop as she attempts in vain to keep her gaze on The Lion King - Catalina’s phone is too small from the distance, anyway. Even Katherine can’t fully make out the shape of Timon, let alone the little details.

Cathy, surprisingly, is sprawled out on Anne’s lap, her head on Catalina’s leg. Her light snoring echoes throughout Katherine’s room, and in all honesty, it’s refreshing to see the most well-known insomniac of the group sleeping. Of course, Katherine herself could be sleeping. Or maybe Anne or Catalina.

Jane is fast asleep, too, curled into a ball near the corner of the blanket fort. She seems, for once, to be at peace. That is enough for Kit. Nothing can be perfect, she knows that, but she likes to see Jane letting go of her anxieties. 

(She wonders, sometimes, if she should do the same.)

Katherine allows herself to focus on the film, letting a smile flutter across her tired mouth when she hears the beginning of  _ Hakuna Matata _ play.

No worries, she tells herself. “No worries.”

Neither Catalina nor Anne seem to hear her, but Anna shifts from her position and gives a small hum. “Yes,  _ katze. _ No worries. You’re safe here.” Her voice is soft, and something about it, the  _ familiarity  _ of it, comforts her.

“Thanks.” Kit moves so both of them have a bit more room, and she rests her head on Anna’s shoulder. “You too, though I think you know that.”

A hand ruffles her hair, and she bites back a noise of indignation as Anna chuckles wearily. “I do. Sleep well, kid.”

And she will.

She’s sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to scream at me at my [tumblr!](https://a-portrait-made-with-words.tumblr.com)


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